


Hunting Season

by alexjanna91



Series: Footprints on Earth (Antichrist!Winchesters) [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence, Wincest - Freeform, antichrist!boys, mentions child molestation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjanna91/pseuds/alexjanna91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man sat on the bench in the park and chose his prey wisely. He didn’t know it chose him right back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting Season

**Author's Note:**

> Some content may be triggery and disturbing, so read responsibly. This doesn’t necessarily have a place chronologically in the Footprints on Earth arc timeline, it can go anywhere.
> 
> This was inspired by the music video for [First of the Year (Equinox) - Skrillex](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=2cXDgFwE13g). The video was supremely creepy and I just couldn’t think of anything more perfect than a little Dean and Sam to go with it.

The bench was cold underneath him, but the sun was warm against his face. A chill breeze cut through his coat and sent a shiver down his spine, but he sat still and watchful. In the park the leaves changed in the trees and fall encroached on his hunting grounds. 

Screaming and laughing and yelling echoed in the cold air as the children played games and ran till their cheeks were flushed and their chests were heaving for breath. 

His belly clenched and he shifted in his seat. 

There were so many of them. They were all so young and innocent and beautiful. Not a care in the world to stain their soft skin or tangle their baby fine hair. 

_A hum melted into a sigh and Sam smirked, pressing his face into the pillow. Dean’s hand was sliding down his sweat slicked back and sending a trickle of pleasure through his body._

_“Dean.” He gasped out as his brother’s hand cupped his ass and squeezed. “I’m bored.” He whined._

_Chuckling deeply, Dean leaned over his little brother’s shoulder and feathered moist kisses up his neck and over his jaw. “But we’re doing something very entertaining right now.”_

_Sam huffed. Rolling onto his back he caught Dean’s lower lip between his teeth and sucked on it before drawing back and giving him a pleading little smile. “I know, but,” he blushed and stroked his hand over Dean’s shoulder, “I kinda just want to go to the park.”_

So many to choose from. All of them soft and innocent and pliable and oh so very tempting.

He let another shiver wash over him as he went back to avidly watching the children play. He had all the time in the world to pick one, he knew, but patience had never been his strong suit. 

“Sorry, guys! I gotta go. I’m late already.” 

The voice was bright with laughter and young. Turning toward it, he almost let himself smirk as anticipation welled up in his gut. 

The boy was young, no more than eight. He was gangly and a bit taller than the other kids, but his cheeks were round and plump, his lips soft and smiling, his hair warm chestnut and wild from play. His eyes were clear and hazel and shining bright with innocence. 

The boy sent a last wave toward his friends and set off down the street. The sun was inching toward the ground and its waning light was casting long, cool shadows over the sidewalk. 

He was perfect, he thought. Everything about the boy sent a rush into his blood and an ache into his flesh. 

Slowly, he stood up from the bench and wrapped his long coat closer around himself. It was starting to get rather cold, he thought absently as he followed in the boy’s footsteps like they were breadcrumbs, golden and glowing against he stained grey of the concrete. 

The sun was sinking lower and the boy turned toward the community rec center heading straight for the perfectly empty, perfectly secluded gymnasium. 

He smirked. It was like the most divine, sinful tease. He stepped up his pace and reached the gym door with eager sweat just starting to bead on his forehead.

_“Are you sure you’re warm enough?” Dean asked as he straightened his little brother’s hoody on his shoulders._

_Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled at him nonetheless. “Yes, Dean. I’m sure.” He huffed and batted his brother’s hands away when he tried to zip the hoody up to his throat. “Stop it. It’s not even that cold out.”_

_Holding his hands up in surrender, Dean smiled down at his brother in amusement. “I know. Just want to make sure you’re warm.”_

_He reached out and buried his fingers in his little brother’s wild hair. The curls were soft and warm and Dean stroked them away from Sam’s forehead tenderly._

_Leaning into the touch, Sam smiled. “I’ll be fine.” He said once more reassuringly. His big brother really did worry too much._

_Nodding in agreement, Dean leaned down and lifted Sam’s face up with a gentle hand cupped under his chin. He pressed his lips to Sam’s and kissed him slow and soft._

_Sam made a protesting noise when he drew away, but Dean just smirked. “Have fun at the park, little bro.”_

The gym was dark and cold enough that he could see his breath. It was utterly silent and he squinted into the dark. Where had the boy gone? He couldn’t have just-

Half the lights flickered and rattled on casting the high-gloss floor and the bland white walls in stark relief. Outside the high barred windows dusk covered the building in near darkness making it feel closed in and isolated. 

Blinking, his eyes adjusting to the light, he quickly spotted the boy he followed here. He was standing at the edge of the shadows shrouding the furthest half of the gym. He stood stock still with his curious hazel gaze fastened on the man who’d followed him. He fingers were picking and pulling and playing at his hoody sleeves. He chewed on his soft bottom lip nervously. 

“Hello.” The man called to the boy, a warm innocuous smile on his face. “Are you supposed to be in here this late?” He asked, trying to sound stern. 

The boy flicked his gaze down to his shoes nervously. “Yeah.” He answered his voice quiet and bashful. “I’m ‘sposed to wait here.” 

Heart suddenly pounding at the sheer serendipitous of it, the man slowly walked toward the boy. He could barely keep his hands from shaking with the need to touch all that soft, supple-

“Really?” He asked, playing the friendly, concerned adult. “You know it’s dangerous around here at night. I should wait with you.” 

Shaking his messy chestnut bangs to fall over his shy eyes, the boy looked up at the man and shrugged. “Maybe.” He muttered, the toe of his sneaker squeaking against the glossy court floor. “Did you follow me?” 

The man just smiled down at him. He was so close. He could smell the sweat and autumn chill on the boy’s skin. He could see the way the boy’s hair curled around his ears. He could hear every single one of the boy’s gentle little breaths. 

“I didn’t want something to happen to you.” The man told him sternly. His hand reached, quivering, almost of its own volition toward the boy’s thin delicate shoulder. “There are a lot of bad people out there that would take advantage of alone little boys.” 

“Bad people like you?”

The boy lifted his eyes and the man saw that they were glowing like stars on a moonless night. He gasped and made to pull away, but found himself frozen, gaze locked with the boy’s, and his entire body now stiff like rigor, chill leaking into his skin. 

The boy straightened his nervous posture and pierced the man’s soul with a look. “You’re a bad person and I don’t like you.”

With a sharp movement, the boy cut a hand through the air like a knife and the man went flying. 

He landed hard on his back, the back of his head cracking against the glossy floor. Heart no longer pounding with arousal and anticipation; it was now pounding with fear and panic. 

Frantically rolling onto his stomach and lurching to his knees, the man panted and heaved and stared wild eyed at the little boy. 

His eyes still glowed, their light seeming to dim everything else around them. 

“I never said who I was waiting for.” The boy said. His voice still sweet like sugar and innocent like a child’s should be. 

Three and a half feet above the boy’s head in the pitch darkness looming behind him, a pair of glowing green eyes flickered into being and shown like a monster’s in the night. A shape stepped out of the dark and coalesced into a man, six feet tall, broad and strong like a warrior. The man flickered and solidified crouched next to the boy at his level with a heavy proprietary arm around the boy’s shoulders. 

The boy didn’t even seem to acknowledge the weight. He just smirked, teeth sharp and white. “I was waiting for my big brother.” 

What? What is this? How could this- It’s not-

The scent of little boy and fall was swept away by the stench of sulfur. Frost cracked at the high windows around the gym and the man’s breath gusted out of his slack mouth in grey puffs of steam. The chill that had started nipping at his flesh was now pierced deep into his bones, but his skin felt scorching hot, blistered and burning. 

The man with the glowing eyes smiled mean and hungry. “Nice hunting, baby brother.” He turned his head and pressed his nose and mouth into the boy’s cheek. His eyes stayed pinned on the man quaking in front of them. 

“He tasted foul.” The boy said with a little wrinkle of his nose. “His soul is like chalk and ash.”

The man made a gasping, shrieking sound as the breath in his lungs was suddenly squeezed out of him. His throat was starting to close up and his tongue felt swollen and sluggish. He looked up frantically to see the little boy had an arm raised almost lazily, his small hand curling into a fist. 

“Do you want to play a little more, baby brother?” The man with the glowing eyes asked as he cupped a hand around the boy’s throat and nuzzled into the hair above his ear. “You’re not bored now, are you?” He asked seemingly concerned about this. 

The man’s eyes were bugging out of his hand and black was encroaching on his vision. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t hear anything, but his blood rushing in his ears. He almost couldn’t feel anything except for his lungs slowly being squeezed like a lemon. 

But the boy’s voice echoed in his head as loud and clear as church bells. 

“I think I want to play a little more.” 

Oxygen suddenly flooding his body, the man collapsed onto his hands in gasping desperate breaths. He vision returned to him just in time to see the man turn the boy’s head toward him and take his mouth in a deep kiss. 

The boy’s entire body relaxed as he opened his mouth to the man and tangled their tongues together.

It felt as though every bit of blood had drained out of him as he watched the boy and the man with the glowing eyes. Almost before he could comprehend what he was seeing, the kiss was broken and the boy turned his vicious gaze back on him. 

He grinned like a wolf with blood dripping from its mouth. “You want to play with me, Mister?”

Eyes wide, body frozen, chest heaving, heart stuttering in fear, the man opened his mouth and-

Dusk sank into dark and silence covered neighborhood. The only thing disturbing the peaceful, starry night were the blood curdling screams renting the air and the sharp cracks of bone piercing the stillness.

_Dean smiled and laughed as Sam did tricks on the monkey bars. “Having fun, Sammy?”_

_Giggling gleefully as he hung upside down, Sam just grinning at his brother. “Yep!” He shouted. “But I would be having more fun if you played with me!”_

_Huffing out a laugh, Dean looked up at the night sky and blew out a calming breath as starlight filled his eyes. A warm tingle washed over him and he gave a shiver of delight._

_He smiled._

_A little giggled from in front of him drew his attention and he turned his face back to earth and opened his eyes, not having realized he’d closed them._

_Sam was there smiling at him. His entire body was shaking with anticipation and excitement. “Ready?” He asked, bouncing on his toes._

_Dean looked at his brother’s childishly chubby cheeks, his wind blown floppy hair and his flushed skin. A rush of love and nostalgia welled up in his chest. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his toes in his sneakers, getting used to the shift, his height and his breadth._

_Tilting his head to one side like a puppy, Sam’s mouth quirked in a crooked grin. “I forgot how cute you were at twelve.”_

_Snorting, Dean reached out and tenderly tucked a wayward curl behind Sam’s ear. “And I forgot how chubby you were at eight.”_

_Rolling his eyes, Sam darted off toward the swing sets. “Last one to the swings is a rotten egg!”_

_Sighing indulgently, Dean lunged after him and gave chase. “I’m gonna beat you, Sammy!”_

_Their laughter rang out in the night and frightened away the danger that had infected it._

*

End.


End file.
